


the angels have gone

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e19 Failed Experiments, Gen, Season/Series 05, Shippy Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: Hive is surprised to see Jemma at the church. Mainly because he can sense her waiting with the rest of SHIELD five miles away.





	the angels have gone

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "the fight is over (composer's cut)" from Over the Garden Wall.

“I told you to guard Radcliffe,” Alveus says and allows some of his displeasure to reach along his connection to Daisy. He keeps his attention on the high windows and the sky. These stars are no longer as familiar to him as those dotting Maveth’s sky, but they touch him far more deeply.

“I know,” she says, “but she said she could help.”

Curious, he turns—and lurches in shock to discover Jemma standing beside Daisy at the sanctuary doors. “I thought-” The words escape him before he can draw them back.

Jemma’s presence is as familiar to him as Maveth’s stars and as dear as Earth’s. He knew immediately when she departed Maveth, could feel the walls of the universe going up between them, separating them by light years rather than yards. He knew precisely where to find her in Bucharest five days ago. And he knew tonight when she arrived with the rest of Coulson’s forces. (Unsurprising, given that Alveus has not been hiding his presence here and practically invited SHIELD to join him by allowing Daisy to be seen so publicly.)

So he _is_ surprised to see Jemma standing here before him when he can still so clearly feel her five miles away, anxiously awaiting … something. The particulars are, as ever, lost to him, but her fear is as real as Daisy’s uncertainty.

But this woman here  _is_ Jemma. Now that he turns his attention to her, there can be no doubt that same beautiful mind is turning ten feet away, just as it is on the other side of town.

“How?” he asks. When she does not immediately respond, he steps closer, into the same shaft of moonlight which she and Daisy occupy. “ _How?_ ” he demands imperiously.

She sways slightly back from him, but Daisy is there with a hand to stop her moving away in earnest. Her breath shudders out of her. “A monolith,” she says, and now it is Alveus’ turn to flinch. “One which moves its victims through time.”

He steps slightly back, the better to see her fully. In the dim light it is difficult to tell, but he thinks there are new lines around her eyes and, more damning even than that, now that he focuses he can feel the weight of years on her mind which that other Jemma does not bear.

“All right,” he says slowly. Time travel is certainly the most feasible explanation at the moment, but it does not tell him why she’s come. “You’re here to _help_?” he asks and cannot help a slightly incredulous emphasis on the final word.

She hesitates, looking briefly to Daisy before nodding once and reaching into the pocket of her—over-sized, he notes now; none of her clothes quite fit her—jacket. Daisy stops her with a hand around her elbow, but she has already extracted enough of her burden that Alveus can see it glistening in the moonlight. He reaches out, slipping it from her pocket and her hand both to study it.

It is a crystal. Not blue like those the Kree left behind, but a deep purple.

“That’s what you want,” Jemma says. “It will turn a human into an Inhuman.”

That is another mark in her story’s favor. SHIELD does not yet have the means to know his intentions. He’s left them a trail to the erroneous conclusion that he fears for his life. The destruction of GT Agrochemical, his hunt for the summoner, even his kidnapping of Radcliffe, none of it should bring them to the truth.

He drops his hands. He has no way of knowing whether the crystal is the genuine article until he tests it on a full-blooded human. And while he does have one right here before him, she is too clever by half and he will not risk that this is some elaborate trap.

“You tried to kill me when last we met.”

The reminder seems to aggravate her. “Oh, get over it!” she snaps, wrapping her arms around herself as though suddenly cold. “This is more important than your hurt feelings!”

“Is it more important than yours?” He reaches out, meaning to tuck her hair behind her ear, only to pull away when something flakes off of her skin.

Gold paint. Curious.

“The world is going to be destroyed,” she says. Her voice wavers but not, he thinks, with deceit. This is emotion, memory. “Literally. Broken into a million pieces. Humanity will barely survive and the few that do will be enslaved. You can stop them.”

She’s desperate. He can see that now. He supposes it should have been obvious from the start, given that she’s coming to him at all.

He wants to ask her who has done this—who will destroy the world, how, when—and what have they done in the aftermath to cause her to fear so, but the sound of the church’s outer door opening reminds him that he has an appointment to keep.

“We will finish this later,” he says to Jemma, returning the crystal to her pocket and pulling her deeper into the church. Over her head, he says to Daisy, “Take her to the front and be sure no harm comes to her. This may get messy.”

He steps back, both to allow them room to pass and to give himself a little space. He watches, a strange tightness in his chest—there is a reason he planned on having this meeting in private—as Daisy settles Jemma in the first pew. Jemma looks to him once before facing front, her shoulders back, her spine straight. In a moment her mind is calm, her emotions put purposefully to ease. He wonders what she has been through to develop such a skill.

But there is no time for such concerns. No sooner has Daisy stepped back into the aisle than the Reaper appears from the shadows. He is barely two steps away—one, given the length of his scythe—and with the women to consider there is little time for pleasantries.

“I remember your kind being taller.” Though there is always time for sarcasm.

The Kree attacks. More words are exchanged in between blows which do not land. (He also remembers the Kree being better fighters.) He offers mercy, a truce, even an alliance, and is met with an insult to his very being. He did not expect his kindness to be welcomed and is, truthfully, glad to have it thrown back in his face. It was necessary to offer a partnership as a means of erasing the debt he owes the Kree for their hand in creating him, but he will much prefer their blood on his hands.

SHIELD arrives. He sees May’s face like a ghost in the doorway and for a moment Grant Ward’s rage grips him so tight he misses the next move. The pointed butt of the scythe drives through his foot and clean into the floorboards. Memory crashes over reality. The burn of nails through his foot was less than this, he thinks, but pain is never remembered as cruelly as it came and with May so close he is disoriented by the similarities.

“No!” Daisy roars. Or perhaps the depth of the sound is only magnified by the wave she sends at the Kree.

He is too strong for her to drive back as she means to, but with all his focus on keeping his feet, Alveus is able to free himself. This time he is ready and pushes aside Grant’s memories of nails being pulled from his flesh. In the time it takes him to toss the scythe into Daisy’s hands and take a single step, the wound is healed. He will need to feed soon and turns hungry eyes on the Kree.

But the Kree’s eyes are not on him, they are settled on the front of the room and his hand is at his belt.

“Jemma,” Alveus calls. When the Kree attacks, he will leave himself open and then-

“Jemma!” Daisy yells. Her fear lightnings along their bond and Alveus cannot help but turn his head, relinquishing his advantage.

In a fraction of a second he is aware of many things. Daisy, behind him, unable to attack the Kree and too far from Jemma to protect her. Jemma herself, still sitting in the front row, unmoved despite his warning; she could be a parishioner on a Sunday morning, too devote in her prayers to notice the battle raging behind her. And the Kree, lifting his arm, throwing his blade. Too soon. Too far. It cannot be stopped.

And then the sound of a gunshot. Blue blood sprays the window. The blade flies wide, hammering into the wall above the altar. Jemma does not so much as flinch.

“Repeat,” May says, her voice echoing as she comes through the doors, “Simmons is _here_. I’m looking right at her.”

Alveus can imagine the confusion happening on SHIELD’s plane—he can feel some of it; Jemma’s mind is a hurricane of fear and surprise and no small amount of anger. No doubt she suspects this is some trick of his.

He pushes it aside. “Protect her,” he says again, trusting Daisy to do as she’s told. Sure enough, he hears the sounds of an impending fight between May and Daisy, but his attention remains on the Kree.

The bleeding has already slowed and another blade has appeared in his hand. “You are not so different, relying on your fellow mortals to defend you.”

Alveus smiles. “You are blinded by your hubris.” He reaches out. “I am a _god_.” His parasites take to the air and in moments all that is left of the Kree is bones and gore.

He turns to see how Daisy fares—and is blinded by a flare of light. He is struck by a driving force, strong enough that he takes a single step back. SHIELD has followed the Kree’s example, using his distraction to make their move.

It fails.

They might have managed to weaken him if they had attacked after he healed his foot, as he hasn’t fed since Bucharest and the wound was substantial. But now? With the life force of a Kree Reaper sustaining him? Even this attack, sizable as it was, cannot so much as slow him down.

May dodges back, out of Daisy’s reach. She looks to Jemma. “You’re _sure_?” she demands and, receiving her answer from her allies far afield, orders, “Fall back!”

Alveus lets them go. When they are gone and when Daisy would make to go to Jemma, he lifts a hand, stalling her.

“Jemma,” he says. Then again, louder. “Jemma!” Nothing. No movement. Not even a mental reaction. She is still in that calm haze to which she retreated earlier.

He makes a wide approach, but even then she does not turn her head until he is almost upon her. He kneels at her side, once again taking her measure. Those wrinkles he noticed around her eyes are from the strain of effort. Her hands in her lap are icy when he lays his over them. “Who did this to you?” he asks, his words measured so that she can more easily read them on his lips. And to that he adds the mental idea of his inquiry. He is no telepath to transmit the words he wishes her to hear, but he can give her the impression of them.

She tips her head, accustoming herself to the weight of him on her mind. And then she says two words which cut him to the core. “The Kree.”

He very nearly falls on his ass. Behind him, Daisy whispers a faint, “What?” He knows she is looking to the remains at the back of the sanctuary.

Jemma’s hands shake in his grip and he feels her anger like a riptide threatening to pull him under. “They take over. After.”

After the Earth is destroyed. The _Kree_ are the ones who tear it apart and enslave what is left. He does not know why he is surprised.

Alveus should have taken more time with this one.

Jemma slips one of her hands free to touch the edge of her ear. “They put something inside me. To control me. They decide how much I hear and see.”

With all the minds and histories in his head, Alveus’ only trouble is choosing just which word adequately describes anyone who would do such a thing to Jemma. Unable to narrow it down, he allows each of his past hosts to have their say, a litany of curses which calms him enough he can ask, “And you came here in hopes I would stop them?”

The mention of _hope_ causes her to stiffen, but she bucks up quickly. “You _hate_ them,” she says, and he feels his own hatred echoed in her. “I saw the way you fought the one you summoned. I knew that if you were aware what was coming, you’d never let it happen.”

He smiles, wondering how differently this night went in her timeline. He reaches into her pocket again, extracting the crystal.

“And you would give me this? You know what it will mean?”

The breath shudders out of her. “Yes. I know that you’ll just enslave us all anyway. But you won’t hurt us or make us hurt each other. You won’t keep us in line with fear and pain and-” Her hand lifts, then drops, an aborted motion meant to indicate the Kree’s method of control over her.

How did she do it, he wonders. That she could formulate and accomplish this entire plan under such duress… He isn’t surprised she was able—with Will as a part of him, he can never think her anything less than capable—but he’s still immensely curious as to how she managed to pull it off.

“You won’t _subjugate_ us,” she says, and something in her eyes pleads with him that it will be true. “Not the way they did anyway.”

He brushes her hair away from her face that he might cup her cheeks. “No,” he promises, “I will not. Now come.” He stands, pulling her with him. Once on her feet, he laces their fingers, mindful that in the dark, in her condition, it will be all too easy to get lost. “We must hurry.”

Between Alicia and the other Jemma, he can guess that SHIELD is currently distracted by the second Kree. And, as there is no need now to wait for Radcliffe to perfect his formula, Alveus’ original plans can resume. They will take the Zephyr and its resources and then, thanks to Jemma’s gift, the world. But they must move quickly.

He guides her carefully out of the sanctuary so that his body might act as a barrier between her and the Kree. Compromised though her vision may be, he will not risk her being distressed by the sight. And, as they reach the empty street, and his attention is pulled momentarily to the globe of the sky overhead, he makes a silent promise to those familiar stars she will never see another Kree again.

 


End file.
